


Seize The Night

by CallMeHopeless (IAmNotBread)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Awkward Boners, Coronavirus Times With Kylo, Desperation, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Isolation, Masturbation, Modern Era, Pining, Quarantine, Roommates to lovers, Sexual Tension, Walking In On Someone, overdone trope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:28:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23279389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IAmNotBread/pseuds/CallMeHopeless
Summary: Being stuck in quarantine with your housemate isn't all that bad.And the way he sneaks glances at you?Well: that's even better.(A self-indulgent quarantine AU for you all that leaves Kylo more than a little flustered at being alone with you.)
Relationships: Ben Solo | Kylo Ren/Reader, Kylo Ren/Reader, Kylo Ren/You
Comments: 25
Kudos: 432





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I dedicate this to all of y'all currently stuck in isolation wishing for a sexy housemate to fuck during this time period
> 
> You are my favourites. Stay strong. <3

They're not really sure when exactly you're supposed to stay put until.

That's the worst bit, you know? The _waiting_. Everything changes in a snap - click of the fingers, then you're all stuck in your cruddy apartments for God knows how long. And you imagine for so many people, that's the big kicker. Stuck, alone.

Waiting.

But _you're not alone._

Hux is cooped up somewhere with his boyfriend up country, and Phasma's back home tending to her folks - so the apartment's pretty damned quiet. The TV runs through the news cycle as you sit around on your bed, flicking through your laptop to try to cope with the ever-present boredom.

A knock at your door makes you look up, smoothing a hand down your face.

"Come in!"

Your bedroom door creaks open; thick fingers drumming on the painted doorframe as Kylo's head peaks through the gap. Dark eyes take you in, evening light dusting the freckles on his face.

It's really not fair that you're stuck with someone _this attractive_ for the foreseeable future.

"Hey," he swallows, running a hand through his thick hair. "Coping okay?"

You shrug, closing your laptop lid. "Could be worse. I mean," you laugh. "Hux could've stuck it out."

Kylo chuckles, smile tipping at the corner of his full lips.

"Want some takeout? We could chuck on a movie or something. Feeling a bit stir-crazy: might be good to have some company."

Your heart genuinely flutters at the thought: spending a quiet night in with your gorgeous housemate. You've had a crush on him since...well, since that first day their old housemate left and you signed onto the lease. That sharp smile he'd flashed at your offhanded joke, standing in the doorway of the apartment with your suitcase in tow. How he'd been wearing that navy blue sweater that hugs at every square inch of his muscle; the way he always smells of spicy cologne that makes your lips prickle.

He's a dreamboat, and you've got it _bad_.

"Sure. Chinese place downtown? Their Moo Shu Pork is amaaaaaaaaaazing."

Kylo smirks.

"Sounds good to me."

Okay. Breathe. This is normal. This is fine, right?

You roll off the bed, setting your laptop down on the desk.

"Give me 15: I'll shower and change and we'll get this party started."

You're all aflutter as Kylo closes the bedroom door - and shit. Shitshitshitshit. Okay. Just need to...need to breathe. This is just like every day, right? You see him every damned day. You eat his cornflakes and find his laundry mixed in with yours, and this is just that. It's just friends hanging out: housemates, figuring out how to brave this lockdown thing together.

You rummage through your drawers for whatever you can find: looking for something that tows the line between comfy and a dash of sexy. There's a pretty silk nightgown you find with lace along the bodice, complete with a matching robe that ties along the front, and yes. _Perfect_.

Slipping into the shower quickly, you make a brief go of getting clean and using your nicest soaps before slipping on the pretty pyjamas. It's almost scandalous; the way the lace brushes at your hip, the tie of the robe dipping in when you draw it together.

When you pad into the living room, Kylo's already sifting through Netflix. The menu sits on his lap, and he's wearing these grey trackpants and a tight black t-shirt that just--

Don't stare. For God's sake.

You move to the couch, and Kylo purses his lips as he glares at the TV.

"They're constantly shifting the movies on here. Always...hard to..."

You're moving his textbooks off of the sofa cushions when Kylo just...trails off.

His throat bobs, eyes dark as they linger on you. Raking up your body and back down again; taking in every inch of you as you try not to take notice, glancing out of the corner of your eye. He's so, so still - until your eyes snap around to his.

Kylo's cheekbones flush a gorgeous, deep rose. He shuffles on the couch, lip pouting as he looks down at the menu.

"Everything okay?" you ask, settling down next to him. There's a palpable tension lingering in the air; something tightening in your stomach at the way the freckles on Kylo's throat dance as he swallows.

"Hmmm?"

You bite your nails, shrugging. "You went a little weird there for a moment."

He doesn't respond, eyes scanning down the pages until he decisively hands it to you without a word. The silence is something you're used to with him, but this is...different, somehow. Tense, as Kylo's jaw tightens and he sifts through trailers with the remote. He's deathly still for the longest time: hand tight on his sweatpants, not daring to even glance at you.

"You calling, or am I?" you ask, throwing the menu down onto the coffee table.

He sucks in a breath.

"I'll do it."

And you really, really hope he'll open up.

* * *

The night goes on; and Kylo doesn't say too much of anything.

You both pick at the buffet of foods on the coffee table with your chopsticks, draping a huge, old throw rug over you both. Kylo's dark eyes stay transfixed on the screen, jaw tight when he sets down his empty bowl and pulls the blanket up around his lap.

"You're awful quiet today" you smirk, eyes drifting to the screen as the movie plays out.

Kylo just shrugs.

"Stuff on my mind."

"Stuff, huh?"

There's this...this undercurrent, pulling at your mind as you grip the edge of the sofa and try to settle your frayed nerves. Something in the way Kylo's lips crease makes you want to lean in: kiss the pretty corners of his soft lips and relieve all that tension he holds in his body. He's always taut enough to snap; breaking into tiny pieces that you just want to pull together, hold tight and drain the pained sharpness from.

He grits his teeth; bringing his feet up to rest on the coffee table--

\--SMACK!

Kylo curses under his breath as chopsticks clatter onto the wooden floor; rolling to your feet and spattering soy sauce down across the blanket. It's no big deal, but instinct wins out - you lean down, robe falling to your collarbone as you dip towards his lap, reaching for them as your chest pushes up against his blanketed thigh.

For fuck's sake.

You try to pull the silk up, taking both of the sticks in one hand and slamming them down onto the coffee table with a grunt as you right yourself.

"Sorry," Kylo's legs shuffle; one hand tight enough that his knuckles whiten on the arm of the chair. "Fuck, _sorry."_

"It's fine, Kylo. Really - no big deal."

But his jaw works; biting his top lip as his eyes drop.

"Your t--" he swallows. "Shirt. _Your shirt._ "

Oh.

Oh my fucking God.

Your blood runs freezing cold as you feel a draft against your perked nipple - now sticking out of your robe and resting on the top of your lace gown, and _holy shit_.

This is mortifying.

"Oh my God," you gasp, warm fingers tucking yourself back into the silk as you shiver with this encompassing embarrassment. "Kylo - sorry. Fucking Hell."

He chuffs, rubbing his jaw with thick fingers. One of his hands dips beneath the blanket; lost under the mass of fabric, you hear his breath catch just so.

"It's fine."

"Did you see--?"

"--Not much."

Good. Okay, good.

Well, you've probably blown it now. Totally and utterly _fucked_ it.

You just try glue your eyes back to the screen; try to ignore the pounding in your heart as Kylo shuffles on the chair. He seems to struggle to get comfortable - and after a few minutes of canned laughter and you slowly dying inside, Kylo mumbles:

"Gotta send some emails. Stuff for work."

He's shooting up before you can so much as respond, grey sweatpants tight as he leaves you on the sofa with the film flickering on the television. There's still a good half-hour to go: where the Hell's he off to?

Ugh. Fuck. No wonder - poor guy's probably as horrified as you are.

"Do you...I'll just..."

You trail off as his door closes; burying your head in your hands.

Crap. _Crap_.

A few moments of assessing the situation and you're feeling...well, if anything? _Worse_. The man you've been pining for just got a good eyeful of your tit - there's no coming back from this. No amount of delicious fried rice is going to make Kylo forget you've just--

Okay. No. Less moping.

Some things are just worth talking out, and leaving this sure as fuck won't make you feel any better. With a fluttering heart, you pause the movie and nervously make your way to Kylo's door: bracing yourself for what will inevitably one of the more awkward conversations of your life.

You suck your cheek, squeezing your eyes shut--

And that's when you hear it.

This faint sound - muffled by something, but with all the rich intensity you could've imagined. This broken breath, dizzy under the weight of slicked skin on skin; quiet and hidden but very, very unmistakable.

Your name tears through the dark - and then, so much more.

_"Please."_

It's a half-whisper, formed in the cusp of something gorgeous. You can't help yourself, body quivering as you press your ear up to Kylo's battered door to take in a sound you're not quite sure you're hearing.

" _Please_ \- _Oh God_."

His breath stutters; whisper in his voice woven through with a whimper that sets your core alight.

Because there you are: waiting by the doorway of this gorgeous, exquisite man. Trapped between this walls with him, and only him, for Lord knows how long. And against all sense - all reason you can fathom - he's fucking his hand raw.

Fucking his hand raw at _the thought of you_.

Heaven help you; this'll be a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's gonna happen what's gonna happen  
> [I'm mainly on Tumblr, so come find me if you like this stuff](http://callmehopeless.tumblr.com)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can't just run off and jack off without requiring a little TLC, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Went on hiatus, but look at me: back at you with another chapter of your 3rd most requested fic for updates  
> I asked a lot of you what you wanted from this and then ignored that in favour of me writing something smutty and self-indulgent, because I think Kylo has been a bad, bad boy, and I for one like to see him PUNISHED.

So maybe this is it, then.

This is what _kills_ you.

The sound of your roomate - lost in his skin, in the rough creases of his hand - dear _God_. You can picture the way the callouses he'd formed are hitting every inch of the skin on his cock. Hear, through the door, the way his breath catches on inflections in your name that tumble, unbidden, from Kylo's lips in a dark room.

It's enough to make your fingers clench around the doorhandle. Make you bite down in earnest.

But _oh_ , how you've wanted him.

Wanted nothing but this, and only this. This mistake, and these sounds, and the heaved breaths from his lungs.

There's nothing else like this euphoria.

Not in all the world.

It's gravity - the way your body pushes on the wooden door, craving what he's doing under the splints of wood. You've wanted him for...months. Months of painful longing in the night, and cold gestures of passing in the day that have lead to this. Lead to something entirely different than anything you'd expected.

And for a moment: you hesitate.

What if its just--

Just a moment of--

What if this is a misunderstanding--

Just a--

\--a moment.

A lapse.

What if this isn't real?

What if he doesn't want you _this way?_

And then: a quieter voice.

_...And what if he does?_

So you close your eyes. Let them flutter shut, as the wetness between your thighs grows in anticipation. _Burns like a fire you can't put out._

And you push down the brass handle.

Light falls onto your face in a sliver of gold: warm, all warm from the lamp on his bedside table that always seems to need a new bulb. The shade is crummy, but yellow light spills over the sheets regardless; illuminates a bare ankle, wound through navy blue sheets as toes curl into the mattress. His thighs are bare, and the muscle on the inner side of them ripple with every motion of his spine, every tug of his calloused knuckles as they work at something you can't quite see. Both of them working - he needs both of them to cup, to _trace_ , to handle his cock as Kylo's bare stomach ripples.

Clothes lay strewn on the floor haphazardly: boxer shorts draped on the bedside table, torn off in a moment of wild thoughtlessness.

And on his lips; _your name._

Kylo's hair tumbles around him in a curtain of black, obscuring his eyes from vision as he bites his lip to try to stifle the inflections in the word. His nostrils flare; cheeks flushed, blushing that falls down from his cheekbones to his sternum in the most gorgeous pink. Every inch of Kylo is a statue, in this isolated apartment.

Every word he says is sacred.

"Please," he begs, ankles digging hard enough into the mattress that the springs creak. "I just...please, _Oh God--_ "

You should announce yourself.

Walk in, maybe.

You deliberate it, as Kylo's fist tightens around the base of his cock. Desperate; squeezing it to stave off an orgasm brought on by just the flash of your tits. Just the smallest look has him losing the threads of his mind - all of this, just unfurling him. Fuck, if only it'd been this easy before: if only you'd known--

**_"--Shit!"_ **

Your heart rises into your throat as he cusses; eyes wide, staring at you in the doorway with absolute and unrelenting horror that you've only ever seen from eating Phasma's home cooking. Kylo's muscles tighten as he drags the bedsheets up around his huge body, trying desperately to hide his thick, dripping cock.

"Can't you _fucking knock?!"_ he hisses, face turning the deepest red. "For God's sake, can't you just--"

_"No."_

It surprises you when it leaves your lips half as much as it surprises your flatmate.

And it surprises you an unbelievable amount.

So much so that he's silent. Gobsmacked, as his throat bobs.

_"...What?"_

And your bare feet, of their own accord somehow - try to move forward.

Push your weight against the doorframe, forcing it to creak open.

"Show me. Let me see."

 _Let me see what I've done to you,_ you think to yourself, _so that I know this is real._

Kylo doesn't move, for what seems like an age.

"See what?" he asks, voice lower than you've heard it in a long, long time.

You lick your lips.

"I want to hear you say it like you mean it. Like _I know you mean it, Kylo."_

And dear God, but the groan that rips from him as his hands shift under the blue blankets. He sucks the inside of his cheek; both hands dipping beneath the fabric as his head hits against the headboard. Every freckle on his face moves as his expression contorts from embarassment to a rich, uncertain pleasure - flicks of black hair on his forehead just begging you to tuck them right behind his ears.

But you want to see.

See _everything_.

So you walk forwards: bare feet on grey carpet, your hands finding the very corners of the sheet.

And right as you rip it away; your name comes in a punched breath.

You tear the blanket from the bed, exposing his slicked skin to the cool night air. Flushed thighs give no recourse as you follow the grip of his hands: the way one cups his heavy balls, swollen and as huge as you'd expect to compliment the thick cock his other hand works. Every stroke is accompanied by him rolling the ball of his palm against the precum-slicked head; purpled, craning for but a moment of your attention in this dark room.

But fuck; he's a prize.

Adonis, incarnated into a man you've seen picking cereal from the pantry at 3am. 

A man you've seen drinking milk straight from the carton; dripping spatters down to his clavicle.

Kylo Ren is insanity.

 _Wildfire_.

"For you," he rasps, and you're drunk on the sensation. "All for you. Fuck, every time I see you in a towel I just..."

He cuts off with a noise of pained exasperation, and your body aches with the desire to have him.

Have him skewer you, and fuck you - have him twist above you in the darkness of this room. The lightswitch, flicking to nothing. Muscles in his body twitching under your fingertips as your nails scrape into his back.

But you've got months.

There's all the time in the world to _undo him._

And so you lean in: wordless, lace brushing at his thighs as you crawl onto the mattress. Springs dip, and Kylo's eyes are _black_ under the weight of this. Under the gorgeous knowledge of what you'll do to him; his hair dusting his brow, kissing his freckles as you crawl up, fingers either side of his chest. Your underwear burns with the wetness dripping into the fabric: silk heavy, the tie you used to pull the gown together dragging against the muscles of his abdomen when you eye him with a feigned curiosity.

When your eyes are level with his, and you crouch over him - oh, but how his cock twitches.

How Kylo Ren shivers, as his hands still on his swollen cock.

"It's hard to know," you tell him, rolling your lip between your teeth, "hard to know just what to _say to you."_

So instead; you breathe in his oxygen, and suck his lower lip.

Kylo's eyes roll as yours flutter shut: his tongue sweeping, already clamouring for yours as his hard cock thrusts up to meet the juncture of your thighs. Driven half-mad, there seems to be no recourse for him but feeling your pussy clamp around him. Feeling your muscles twitch, as he slips his tongue between your teeth, tasting of fried rice and fresh apples and all the desire that one man can claim.

He's breathless as he writhes beneath you; shaking, his lips hot and teeth clashing when you lower yourself to brush against the sensitive skin of his cock. Kylo bucks into the silk, and fuck - the feeling sends bolts of lightning through you, burning as you drag your lips away from his.

He tries to lean up to follow you: but you're quicker.

Quicker, as you smile slyly at him.

Lean back on your heels, and watch his hands freeze on his stiff cock.

"Show me what you do to yourself: all these lonely nights with just a wall between us."

Kylo's eyes rest on yours. Chest moving with worked-up breaths as his hands find the head of his cock; sweat slicked and smeared with precum, he massages it as his free hand cups his balls and pushes them up towards the base. Christ, it's such work - even with those huge hands - to find his way around this heavy, swollen cock. Hidden from you for so many months; wanting you, perhaps.

Wanting you now?

There's no doubt.

On the fifth pump, he bites down on the inside of his cheek; sucking in a breath as your fingers skirt over his.

"Wanted...you for so long...so long...so much..."

His declaration is broken off by a sound, hacked deep from the back of his throat.

"You too."

It's all you know how to say, as you watch him fall apart under the rough pads of his own fingers.

A pump, then two, and a bead of precum starts to drip towards his waiting palm. Nothing if not patient for your time to have a taste, you offer the very base of your tongue to lick up the pearly bead - and the sound Kylo makes is utterly depraved. Pained. Absolutely uncontolled.

_"Holy fuck."_

His hips buck into your mouth, and he's rife with it. Burning, as you just barely pull the head of his cock into your mouth.

"Oh fuck. _Oh fuck._ I'm going to--" his breathing speeds up, head hitting the headboard at some force. "--Gonna cum. Jesus, I'm--!"

Mere seconds later: your housemate spills hot cum right down your throat.

Pulses it into the back of your mouth; salt and warmth and hot wanting, as his voice shreds from the aching sound of pure, unrelenting pleasure. The way your tits bounce as his hips slap either side of them is enough to make you drool right down his thick fingertips as he pumps from root to the place your lips suck - trying to push out every ounce of his spend into your mouth.

You swallow down hungrily: eyes on his.

Dear God, but the way he looks in the throes of ecstasy.

_You'll never forget this._

Sloppy and filled, you fall back onto his pillows - expecting nothing more than a sheeted mattress to meet you in the middle of something. The scent of Kylo's cologne and sweat, perhaps: but that being the only victory. Instead, what you find is a muscled arm around your shoulders; dragging you close, right into the hard embrace of his chest.

He pants, and you pant, and it's...familiar, somehow.

Maybe this was how it should've been all along.

"You _really_ like me?"

You ask it in a moment of disbelief; tracing the outlines of his freckled pecks, as you hear the sirens of a car out on the highway. The city is mostly falling asleep, but you're both somehow here - stuck, and in-between, and meeting somewhere in the middle of things you never really said.

Kylo shudders; his chuckle infectious as he nuzzles you cheek.

And right before he kisses your forehead, he leans in close and says:

"Oh sweetheart: you have _no idea."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> STONKS
> 
> I'm Hope, and if you like this: catch me over [here on Tumblr!](http://callmehopeless.tumblr.com)


End file.
